


what wasn't a possibility is now present in our arms

by elegantidler



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Early Mornings, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Missing Scene, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 18:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15249138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantidler/pseuds/elegantidler
Summary: Missing scene between 3x05 and 3x06 about how Ed was wearing the robe at night and Oswald was wearing it in the morning.





	1. how fragile we are, between the few good moments

The seconds unspool into minutes and Oswald still hasn’t let go, his hands trailing up and down Ed’s back.

In Ed’s limited experience, hugs are always short and awkward, and the other person almost always pulls away first.

This is new and thrilling and somehow comfortable all at once and Ed wants to freeze in this moment for a while but he is so exhausted that he can’t stop himself from sagging into Oswald.

“You should go to bed,” Oswald says into Ed’s shoulder, arms still wrapped around him.

Ed tucks his face into the crook of Oswald’s neck and shakes his head.

His throat still hurts, and he’s afraid and he doesn’t to be all alone in this enormous house.

Oswald tightens his grip on Ed and pulls him up off the couch as he stands and Ed resigns himself to the end of the moment.

And soon he will be alone again.

Just like Arkham.

Just like always.

With one arm around Ed’s waist Oswald guides them, slowly, upstairs, taking them both to his room and depositing Ed gently on his bed.

Ed looks up, bleary eyed and confused.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, smiling warmly, before disappearing.

Ed looks around Oswald’s room and fidgets with the hem of Oswald’s robe, unsure why he’s here and not in his own room and too tired to try and figure out why.

Oswald returns, now wearing pajamas and carrying Ed’s old quilt, retrieved from Ed’s room down the hall.

“This bed is bigger than your old one but I thought that you might prefer sleeping here tonight. With me.”

He has the same worried look on his face that he had earlier but all Ed feels is relief and gratitude and he is already shedding the robe and crawling under Oswald’s covers, completely exhausted.

Oswald moves towards the bed, tentative, and spreads the quilt out on top of Ed before lying down beside him.

Ed’s breathing has already slowed but he curls towards Oswald, not quite touching, but close enough that Oswald can feel warmth radiating off of him.

And Oswald drifts off to sleep easily after that, and he sleeps better next to Ed than he has in a long time, ever since he got out of Arkham.

* * *

 Oswald wakes first in the morning.

Ed has inched closer to Oswald as they slept and his nose is pressed into Oswald’s shoulder, his long legs pressing against Oswald’s.

Oswald can’t help but smile.

This is all so familiar and so comfortable.

The light is golden now, instead of green, and angry bruises stand out in stark contrast against Ed’s pale skin, but Ed has taken over Oswald’s side of the bed, and tucked a corner of his quilt underneath him just like he used to do a lifetime ago.

Before Oswald was mayor, before Elijah, before Arkham and Hugo Strange, before Ed’s failed crime spree.

Even after everything that has happened to them and between them, they’re still here.

Together.

Everything has changed, and at the same time, nothing has.

Watching Ed sleep, he wonders if this is how Ed had felt back in his green loft, when he had watched a wounded Oswald sleep, and he wonders if Ed’s heart had ached this much with the knowledge that he hadn’t don’t enough to protect him.

He wonders if Ed had felt this _love_. 

He doesn’t want to leave him but he wants Ed to have more tea when he wakes up.

So with immense effort, he extricates himself from the covers and from Ed, and retrieves his robe from the foot of the bed and walks quietly downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Ed's quilt shows up briefly here. A longer story featuring it can be read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1014090)
> 
> Work title from Vows (for a gay wedding) by Joseph O. Legaspi: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/vows-gay-wedding
> 
> Chapter title is from Vinegar and Oil, by Jane Hirshfield https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/vinegar-and-oil


	2. and all of my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling

Olga has prepared her usual breakfast spread but Oswald is too focused on getting back to Ed to take much notice.

While the ginger tea is brewing he pokes around the kitchen looking for a tray, humming softly.

The morning is particularly beautiful and the birds seem to join his song.

He gathers the tea, toast, a muffin and an assortment of fruit on the tray, unsure what Ed will feel like eating, and makes his way back upstairs.

He finds Ed sitting up, quilt wrapped around him, looking around with a slightly confused look on his face.

He smiles warmly when he sees Oswald.

Oswald places the tray on the side table and slides back into bed next to Ed, their shoulders bumping gently.

“Good morning.” Ed’s voice is still slightly hoarse, but it's warm and gentle and goes straight to Oswald’s heart.

He has to tell Ed how he feels.

Life only gives you one true love and when you find it, you have to run to it.

But Ed is looking at him with rumpled hair and bleary eyes and it’s so hard. What if Ed doesn’t love him back? What if telling him ruins everything they have?

“Ed, I—“

And he can’t make any more words come out. They stick in his throat and make his heart race with terror.  

Ed tilts his head.

“What is it, Oswald?”

“I—I made you more tea,” he turns away quickly, reaching for the teacup on the tray, missing Ed’s nervous, faltering smile.

“Oh. Thank you.”

Oswald passes Ed the cup and their fingers brush and then Ed has intertwined his fingers with Oswald’s and isn’t letting go.  

Oswald looks quickly down at their hands and then up at Ed, who takes a sip of tea.

And they sit there, quietly, in the early morning golden light, with words unsaid.

Ed drinks his tea and holds onto Oswald, and Oswald picks at the fruit and absently traces patterns on Ed’s wrist with his thumb.

Without letting go of Oswald’s hand, and without putting down the teacup, Ed tries to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and Oswald is so overcome with fondness that the words finally unstick themselves from Oswald’s throat and burst into the morning quiet.

“I love you.”

Ed startles and nearly spills his tea down his front and turns to stare at Oswald for a long minute.

(But he doesn’t let go of Oswald's hand.)

“Say something, _please_.”

Ed opens his mouth and closes it.

More words stuck in throats.

More terror and longing.

Oswald is starting to panic. He was being stupid. Who would ever love him? He will always just be a pathetic freak trying to rise above his station.

He tries to pull his hand back, increasingly desperate to beat a retreat, but Ed still won’t let him go.

Instead, he puts his teacup down, tugs Oswald’s hand into his lap, enclosing it in both his own, and takes a deep breath.

“I think I’ve loved you for a while.”

Oswald gapes at him.

“ _What?”_

“You were the first person who didn’t make me feel like there was something wrong with me. You made my loft feel like home. You made me feel comfortable. You listened to me. You sang with me.”

Ed says all this very quickly and in one breath, and then pauses.

“I don't know if I always understood it but think I’ve loved you for a really long time.”

Ed’s words slowly make it through to Oswald’s brain.

Ed _loves_ him.

Ed loves  _him._

“Can I kiss you?”

Ed looks up quickly and his breathing hitches.

“Okay.”

Oswald leans forward and kisses him gently and clumsily at first and then deeply as Ed finally lets go of Oswald’s hand and wraps his arms around him, pulling him down into the pillows.

Oswald runs his fingers through Ed’s hair, messing it up even more and kisses Ed until they are both gasping for breath.

Oswald lays next to Ed and kisses his bare shoulder, one hands on Ed’s chest, feeling his heartbeat.

“You don’t have to go anywhere today, do you?” Ed asks, pushing himself up on one arm to turn and look at Oswald with an anxious expression, skimming his fingers along Oswald’s arm, making him shiver.

“I don’t have anywhere to be but here.”

“Good.”

Ed pulls the quilt back up over them and scooches closer to Oswald, their foreheads nearly touching, and smiles, looking at Oswald with those big brown eyes.

“I love you.”

And the words come so easily now and Oswald doesn’t have to say anything back but he wants to spend the rest of his life saying it.

So he does.

_I love you I love you I love you._

And he pulls Ed closer, wrapping his arms tightly around him and kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Florence + the Machine's All This And Heaven Too


End file.
